Lost in Translation
by Yukiru13
Summary: Because of his link to the rest of the world, Ash is kidnapped by team rocket. Forcing him into a coma and a machine, he is brainwashed to believe that he is Giovanni's son. But what happens when Misty meets his new and unimproved self?
1. Stealing Memories

**Lost In Translation**

Chapter One: Stealing Memories

Hello everyone! Some of you might know/remember me from my first full fanfiction "I Met You Through Sunlight". If you don't, well, welcome to my fanficton! I try to update new chapters regularly, but my hectic schedule can sometimes get in the way. Anyways, normally if there is not a new chapter up in two weeks, I will let you know earlier than when it might happen, or I'll post a note. 

So, I hope you enjoy this fanfiction! It is an Ash and Misty pairing, so if you don't like, don't read. =P I am very attached to this couple. Also, I haven't watched pokémon in a long while, so some things might be a little outdated, but please stick with me!

It was a normal, quiet day in secluded little Pallet Town. An early Summer had set upon the entire pokémon world, covering each blade of grass with a rich shade of green. Pokémon frolicked and danced amidst the tall grasses and forests, playing in shallow waters and ambling throughout the town. It was a warm Summer, that was much more inviting than others before it, and it was very promising after the horribly cold winter.

A bright yellow pikachu was curled up and snoring in the midst of a bright beam of sunlight that streamed into the front yard of the Ketchum home. His cheeks, rosy red with the usual markings of the little mouse pokémon, buzzed with a slight electric energy as he inhaled and exhaled, snoring peacefully in the warmth of the sun. His tail curled beneath his chin, the lightning-bolt shape bright even against his pure yellow body. He was at peace beside a lawn chair that was unfolded and sprawled out against the short-cut grass. A white towel draped over the edge of the pokéball decorated pattern, and on it laid a familiar face. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, and he was clothed in only a set of bathing trunks and a few splatters of sunscreen. His body, tan from the recent hobby of sunbathing, was slightly muscular and battered, showing his gangly eighteen year-old form. Black hair shot out from his head at all angles, looking untamed and unable to be tamed.

He spread out his legs, stretching his tall frame, and moved his shoulders around in his beach chair, pretending he was at the beach. He could hear his water pokémon splashing in the kiddie-pool he had set up nearby, and could hear the frequent chatter of the rest of his pokémon as they enjoyed this wonderful day.

"Ash?" someone called, and the boy that was laying on the beach chair sat up, put up his shaded glasses and looked towards the house.

"Yeah, Mom?" he shouted back, and in a moment, his mother emerged from the house. By her side was her ever faithful Mr. Mime, who was carrying a shopping basket and wearing a wicker hat. His mother, adorned in almost the same pattern, wore a bright pink, white and light blue dress. A cheerful smile lit up her face, and she shook her red-brown hair before tying it up and placing a similar hat onto her head.

"I'm going to go out to see your Aunt. She's come down with a cold of some sort, and can't manage by herself," she said tenderly, walking down the path with her Mr. Mime following close behind. She stopped when she came close to her son's chair and ruffled his head. "Will you be all right while I'm gone?" she asked with a smile, teasing him in the sort of way a mother would, even to her grown child.

He smirked at her, and nodded. His brown eyes were shining now, as he looked at his mother, and said reassuringly, "I'll be fine. You have fun at Aunty's."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, as she kissed his forehead and then called for Mr. Mime to come with her. In a matter of a few minutes, she had already started down the road, headed for Pewter City. It was the longer way to go, but she always refused to drive. Mr. Mime didn't seem to like the car in particular, mostly because Ash was frequently the one driving it, and enjoyed walking with his trainer anyways.

Ash watched them leave, and then turned down his shades and started to doze off again in the sunlight. He grew into the habit of breathing in rhythm with his pikachu, and then slowly drifted off into a warm summer's nap.

"It isn't a fool-proof plan!" A fist slammed hard on the table in front of the five shadowed gentleman. This fist moved up a richly sleeved arm, to the broad shoulders of a man in control, all the way to the unshaven face of the unmistakable Team Rocket Leader.

"Sir, with all due respect, none of our plans have ever been fool-proof. In fact, that might be one of the reasons why they always seem to f--"

"Are you going against my orders?!" the man seemed to bark at him, growling viciously through his husky tone of voice, and the man who had spoken earlier cowered in his seat. _'Truly a craven,'_ the leader thought, smug with power, as he stared down the occupants of the table. "If any of you seem to have a complaint that is legit, then _perhaps_ I will consider it. However, all of your claims have been negligible, and should be thrown away along with you!" he said menacingly. He was truly an ugly man, this Giovanni. He had the ugly smirk of power that came along with being one of the major superpowers of the world. Even though few agreed, he knew that Team Rocket would, eventually, become one of the powers that controlled the entire pokémon industry, and the entire pokémon world.

"Giovanni, we know that you're not as young as you used to be," a man started to say, though the shadows of the dimly lit room covered his face. "The Team Rocket Corporation must be placed in secure hands. Without such, any unseemly activity may cause an uprise, and the overall destruction of a reigning superpower."

Giovanni shot him a look of pure distaste, as he took in his skinny form, his greasy hair, and the slight tinge of a smirk to the corners of his mouth. "Are you insinuating my death, Butch?"

"Not at all, Sir," the man replied, placing his hands calmly on the table, flattening them as he leaned into the light. "I'm merely saying that if something were to happen, that Team Rocket is left vulnerable, and that a break in the chain of our company would be almost secure," he explained, looking at his boss and keeping his cool, although he knew that this would either be seen as truancy to Team Rocket, or the greatest input he had ever made to the company.

Giovanni's hard eyes stared at Butch. Only grunts a few years before, Butch and his partner Cassidy had been one of his most frequent suppliers of pokémon anomalies. They had done work that had satisfied him beyond measure, and now that he had been promoted, Butch was having some incredible insight into the future of the company. Giovanni didn't like it. He knew that, behind his back, many of his followers would rather see him dead than follow him, and would much rather get the glory of the Team Rocket operation for themselves. He had ruled with an iron fist since Team Rocket's conception, but Butch's statement led into the fact that he would, unless he found a way to eternal life, die someday. This made the company defenseless, without a general, and without a direction. He would lead his own company, which he had built throughout the years to be the most feared in the world, to its destruction. "Finally, a worthwhile statement," he said, and saw the wave of relief flood over Butch's face.

He stood up, and looked at each of the surrounding gentlemen, and said, "An heir to the Rocket Corporation must be chosen. I will see to it." He began to walk away, dismissing his subjects without a word. _'But Butch will not be named heir,'_ he thought menacingly, picturing the greasy-haired weasel somehow taking over the factory and leading it, blindly, into destruction anyway. He was firm against his company, his lineage, being passed over into arrogant, stupid hands. He smirked a little, and then opened the steel plated door.

Two people, and a pokémon, fell into the conference room. One a man with short, blue-purple hair, and one a woman with bright red hair. The pokémon being squished, and squirming, beneath them was a Meowth. His eyes squinted, and in an angry bark he yelled, "JESSIE! JAMES! MEOWTH!"

The three flinched, and quickly they stood up and started apologizing. Just as pathetic and spineless as they always were, he had expected that they were listening in to the meeting. He started to walk away from their frequent apologies and excuses.

"Boss, we were just thinking..." James' voice surprised him. Giovanni looked at him with a firm, demeaning stare, as if trying to scare him into submission. The man had his eyes closed though, rubbing his hands together as if he was planning on getting a raise. The thought made Giovanni smile evilly. As if those three could possibly get a raise, especially for the work they were doing. In fact, they were so worthless that Giovanni actually paid them no mind, and only came into the last bit of James' speech. "... could be an heir?"

"Jessie. James," he said shortly, turning on his heel and facing them. Suddenly their eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and glee, expecting yet not expecting, and he looked at them harshly. "Who was that boy that always got in your way when you were trying to do your duty?" he asked, giving them a skeptical look. They looked towards each other, and then towards Meowth. "Well?!" he barked again, causing them to jump, and then Jessie took a step forward.

"Ketchum," she said nervously, "Ash Ketchum."

_'Ketchum...'_ he thought, recalling the name that had plagued him from day one. Ash had passed through his gym, when he had left these two Nimrods in charge of it, and had gone on to attain global glory. He had strong pokémon, and was well known for his good attitude and his never-give-up antics. He was loyal, and kind to all pokémon. Giovanni had scowled about him ever since he had gone on to achieve world recognition, and now, as he started to recall all of Ketchum's achievements, a brilliant plan came into his head. It started as a trickle, like a small river from the melting ice, but then broke into a raging, uncontrollable flood. He turned on his heel again, and began to walk. The three followed him again, and when Giovanni next stopped, he turned to look at them with an evil glint in his eyes.

"Bring me the boy, you three," he said, addressing each of them with a point of his finger. "I want him in a coma, and I want him here. I want him here before the end of tonight."

"Starmie, come back!"

A purple star, much like an overgrown starfish, suddenly burst out of the water, jumping onto one of the rocky plateaus that was dropped into the middle of a large pool. Adorned on its center was a bright red gem, which glistened with the water that rolled off of its cut edges. Without eyes, Starmie still managed to face its trainer, and echoed back replies.

"Good work," said the trainer, as she started to pull herself away from her trainer's box to go greet her pokémon. Her bright orange hair was tied in a ponytail that shot out from the side of the top of her head. Her blue eyes were reflecting like the pool itself; deep and beautiful. Her creamy white skin was covered by a creamy yellow, dazzling blue, and a bright red ensemble that she had begun wearing shortly after returning to the Cerulean City gym.

Her slim figure walked casually over to one of her favored pokémon, who had since come to the outside of the pool, and she stooped and started to stroke the spikes that covered Starmie's body. "Time for a rest now," she smiled, pulling out a red and white ball, commonly known as a pokéball, and opened it. A bright beam of red light shot out at Starmie, covering it, and then suddenly the large purple pokémon vanished, and the pokéball shut. She stayed down for a moment, holding up the pokéball in her hand, and stared into space. That was the last pokémon that she had to train today; now what was left to do? Unfortunately, the winter had thrown new trainers into their hidey-holes, and not many were coming to face her nowadays. Now that it was summer, she expected new trainers to be coming by the handful, full with pride and determination, to face her. Her expectations must have been too high. She could only now recall a small bunch of trainers that had visited her gym this year, and that was about it.

She sighed, stranding up and stretching her bare legs, as she walked along the edge of the pool, staring at the edges. She slowly made a circuit around her gym, then another, and finally went through a door that connected the gym to her house. As usual, she was greeted by silence; her pokémon were fast asleep, if not in their pokéballs, and her sisters were out on their usual adventures. She had the house all to herself, just like always.

She laid on a yellow couch, flopping about like a fish until she finally got comfortable, and draped her ankles over the edge of one of the arms. She crossed her arms behind her head and relaxed, sighing yet again, and then closed her eyes. It was so boring being a gym leader all the time. She hated just waiting around, unable to do anything fun, while she faced trainer after trainer after trainer, all wanting to beat her in battle. She had to go _easy_ on them, especially because she was much stronger than she was when she first started.

It was much more exciting to be out on adventures. She would rather see the world than anything else. But seeing the world, and thinking about it, unfortunately reminded her of Ash.

Ash didn't know about how Misty tried not to think about him. In reality, he was almost in the same boat. Being so close to her, now, seemed to drive him crazy. His mother was always asking about her, at least more than she asked about any of his other friends, and it was always with the same, awkward, "motherly" look that any boy would get when there was a girl in the picture. He had always brushed off the thought of Misty, and now that he was into a daily ritual of training, she had almost completely disintegrated from his mind. Or, at least, that was what he told himself.

Ash Ketchum was now in the rough and tumble outskirts of Pallet Town. By his side running with him was his beloved Pikachu. His normal black tee-shirt was replaced by a black muscle-tee, yet almost nothing changed from his usual ensemble besides that. His same blue jeans were dusty and ragged, and his hair was worn loose, again. A cheerful smile was on his face as he laughed and raced with his pokémon, sweat rolling like beads down his tan face, arms, and chest. He enjoyed the heat, as did Pikachu, which made it all worthwhile.

They stopped by a stump somewhere near the edge of the Viridian Forest, and sat upon it to catch their breath. Ash tilted his head up, mouth open as if to catch raindrops, and he was gasping for air. His chest heaved, but it felt good. "Nice job, Pikachu," he wheezed quickly, receiving a "piiika..." in response from his friend. They both sat their, regaining their strength, until Pikachu's ears pricked. The yellow mouse became silent, holding its breath, and Ash brought his head down to look at him again. "Pikachu?" he asked, but his pokémon didn't respond; he was looking intently at the edge of the forest. "Pikachu, what is it?" he asked cautiously, but still received no answer. Whatever it was, it was obviously bothering him.

"Who's there?!" Ash yelled, and he stood up defiantly. Pikachu came down to all fours, and his cheeks started to buzz with a high voltage power of electricity. They stood there, almost having a face-off with the mysterious person, or pokémon, that was in the bushes. Besides the crackle of electricity emanating from the rodent, there was silence. At least until a small gray ball started to roll out from beneath the bushes. Made of some sort of metal, it shone in the sun and rang against the various pebbles in the dirt pathway that it hobbled over. Ash waited, expecting it to move, but it stopped only a few feet from the bushes. Pikachu stopped crackling with electricity, and Ash stopped breathing for a second, and then, in that moment, the ball exploded. Red and gray smoke erupted from the ball, covering the entire area in a dark, thick smoke.

"Pikach--" Ash started to yell, but he was caught breathing in some of the fumes, and started to cough. Pikachu started the same sort of fit, and there they were, human and pokemon caught in the same predicament together. They couldn't stop coughing, and Ash felt like his lungs were on fire. He dropped to his knees, still coughing hard into his arm, and managed to scoop Pikachu up, and hold him against his body. "I got you..." he said weakly, before they both fell into their last coughing fit and blacked out

The smoke cleared after two minutes, and no sign was left of either of them.

"Giovanni!"

Butch's annoying, adolescent-sounding voice pierced the air, for what seemed to be too soon for that day. Giovanni could feel his temple beginning to tense as he turned in his chair and faced his subjects. Butch, Cassidy, Jessie, James, and Meowth. It seemed like a double-whammy of punishment that he was all too eager to be without. "What?" he growled at them, but they all eagerly smirking.

Butch and Cassidy looked at each other, and then Butch proudly stated, "We got him."

"Hey! Excuse me, but _we're_ the ones who set up the smoke bomb and captured the brat!" Jessie's high-pitched voice screeched.

"_We're_ the ones who actually got you there!" Cassidy retorted.

"Yeah, but we're the ones who actually brought him here, and finished _our _mission so--"

"ENOUGH!" Giovanni roared, standing and slamming his palms on his desk with enough force to shake the room. The four members of Team Rocket, and the pokémon, fell silent, and turned to face him attentively. They all had fear in their eyes, and as he glared at each of them, he could feel not only power surging throughout his body, but also pride. He would never let them know about the latter. "You have him?" he asked, calmly, though still gruff with his tone. To this, however, Jessie and James both smiled and started to say "yes" numerous times. "I don't need the story," he said, holding up his hand just as they were about to exaggerate themselves in their gallant capture of the famous pokémon master. A smirk revealed on his shaved face, and he looked to the guard that had escorted them into his office, and said, "Take me to him."

The last time he had been down into the experimental rooms of his corporation, things had turned into a disaster. Months of cleaning, and of restocking, followed, and Rocket Corp. had suffered its worst blow. That had been the conception of Mewtwo. It was a genius plot, meant to destroy and control the world, and he was going to be the man who led it all. However, Mewtwo knew that he was being corrupted for his us, and rampaged through the corporation, blowing out pieces and then, finally, escaping into the free world. He was who-knew-where, now.

But this time, as he walked down the unfamiliar, dark hallways, he felt stronger. He knew that this time, the plan was flawless. The pokémon wasn't near as powerful as Mewtwo had been designed to be, and the trainer, although formidable, wouldn't be a hassle. As the guard stopped near a large doorway, he stood attentive, and Giovanni smiled wickedly. He placed his palm on the palm reader, and a green light scanned his hand, reading every vein, wrinkle, and muscle. The reader was strong enough to read DNA, and could catch a fraud from an original in little under two seconds. The doors slid open, and he was immersed in a room filled with blue and white lights.

He walked into the lab, his shoes stepping and echoing on the clean, polished linoleum, and he moved in a way that dignified his unlimited power. He stopped near the furthest wall in the laboratory, and looked up into two tubes that were together, side by side. One held a Pikachu, who looked ordinary on the outside, but was extraordinary on the inside. And the other tube held a boy. Ash hadn't changed his looks, even in the many years since their last encounter, and it just made Giovanni smile. He would be indistinguishable from the outside, but perfectly changed on the inside, just as his Pikachu would be.

He walked over to a few computers, all hooked up to either of the tubes, and looked at each of their screens. Their breathing rates, heart rates, and blood rates were all normal. The expensive glass tubing, and the expensive concoction of the liquid they were immersed in, would insure that he wouldn't have a dead boy and his pet on hand in a few hours. He checked the charts, and was very pleased with his results.

Perfect heart-rate. Perfect memory rate. He was absolutely perfect. He couldn't have constructed a human being this perfect; even Mewtwo wasn't this good. He carved a sinister smile on his face, as he placed down the clipboard covered in charts, and walked back over to a computer. With a few taps on the computer screen, he found what he was looking for.

Memory: 28.

_'Good,'_ he thought, as he started to stride away from the computers and the tubes. He exited the room, secured the door, and walked back out with the guard that was stationed. All the while, he held a smug smile, until he walked into another room. Dark reds and browns covered the walls and floors. Books upon books were stored in deeply stained oak bookshelves, and dark red curtains were drawn across the wide window. By the front of a cherry desk laid a majestic looking Persian, who was curled up and asleep. Its eyes flickered open, and the Persian picked up its head, receiving a loving stroke on the head from Giovanni. "Everything is going according to plan," he said shortly, almost purring to his favored pokémon, and then made his way around the desk to sit.

He touched a button beneath the front drawer of the desk. A wood flap, hidden against the smooth grain of the wood, emerged, and another button was shown. He pressed it, and out of the floor came a large telephone. He dimmed the lights with a turn of his wrist against another button, and then called his Persian to his side. The telephone whizzed, churning, and asked mechanically, "Name?"

"Ketchum," he said with a smug smile, as he reclined in his chair to sit up straight. "Delia and Ash Ketchum." He put his hand on the head of his Persian as the telephone rang once, twice, three times, and then finally went to the answering machine. At the sound of the beep, Giovanni smirked through the shadows, recording his every move. "Hello, Delia Ketchum..." he said, his voice dripping with poisonous power, "I would like you to know that we have your son..."


	2. Chapter 2: Brief Excuse Note

Lost In Translation Lost In Translation

Author's Note:

Hello to all my readers!!

Now, you may realize it's been a heck of a long time since I posted up something. Yes, yes, I know; I am lazy. I've actually had the second chapter typed up for quite some time, and I've been editing it like crazy, but never got around to posting it up. Until tonight, that is, and then, 'lo and behold, my computer doesn't like the files. I originally typed up everything in Officeworks or something (on the school computers, instead of word, because my school is good like that) and my Macintosh/windows don't READ those files.

So, anyways, you'll all have to patiently wait until… oh… sometime when I can get into the lab, on the computer I was on, and get the files in another place so I can actually upload. Sorry for the wait guys, but I'd figure I'd drop a note now so you'd at least have a heads-up! )

-Yukiru13


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